If I Let You Go
by UnderTheBlueUmbrella
Summary: Arthur, journalist student/legal secretary, is struggling in search of himself, learning to let go of the past. Alfred, a cheerful, seemingly optimistic American is finding out about the truth behind his family's past. UsUk Modern AU. Expect romance/comedy, drama, distant rela, lots of character dev, sexual tension? Will be M for later chapters, be aware of language & alcohol usage
1. Chapter 0: Delay

_This is just a future segment in the real story and it's not happening anytime soon._

_You can skip and not miss out on anything (well except for some interesting moments later on I guess. I just like the style o v o)_

_I promise to update the real thing soon. Cheers! o w o)/ - Renny D._

* * *

[2:24 A.M, London ]

"Get me another, Mattie..."

Alfred put the bourbon bottle down, next to the other 4 that was long emptied. He gave a light laugh, his face was casted in the shadow of the dimly lit corner. The bar was long empty. Occasionally, someone would waltz in and pick up a bottle, then left not long after. Slow jazz was in the air, and he could still hear the slight clicking sound of the same old bartender wiping cups and behind the counter.

"You should really call it a night, Alfred..." Matt was frowning as he pat the older's shoulder. They were supposed to head back to the hotel like 2 hours ago. Instead, Alfred dragged him in this random pub, said he wanted to get a drink before going back to the states. It was past midnight and Matthew was pretty sure the place isn't closing anytime soon. More than that, Alfred was acting weird today. Matthew knew him best, growing up next to his overly cheerful, enthusiastic brother who can't control his own strength sometimes. And what were they talking about this whole time? Nothing that special. He can't help but feel a bit uneasy.

"Just let me be... Tonight would be the last... so..." Alfred whined in his stupor. He was not really drunk, not yet. He then laid his head down on the counter. "Hey, have you ever been in love with someone... so close… yet sooo far away, you can never really tell them?" He murmured groggily.

Matt paused in a bit of a surprise, then looked up with concern, only to find the older boy dirtying the table with drool. He gave it some thoughtful seconds, then closed his eyes and downed the remaining wine in his hand.

"... No. If I can get close to the person I love, I would probably just tell them straight out. Not that there's anything stopping us from being together, eh?" He said matter-of-factly. "It's depending on the person too, I guess. Besides, we are all adults." He nodded to himself. "And Alfred, this is not like you. Please pull yourself together..."

"You are right. After all... I'm the hero~" Alfred gave a dry laugh, his eyes closed and his glasses now askew. A bitter smile was left on his lips as he drifted off. The liquor taste still lingering on his tongue made him want to cry. It's bitter, just like his tear. Yeah, bitter...

.

.

.

"What's wrong, Artie?" His brows went up at the sight of the Brit, now sitting in front of him. A small smile bloomed on his lips. Cool late autumn wind blew playfully against his face. The train was moving and in the afternoon sunset, shadowy lines bounced on his face, then to Arthur's. Then his smile faltered.

With chin rested on his left palm and his gaze outside the window, Arthur sat in silent, tears falling from the precious pair of emerald eyes. Tears rolled down the soft skin, dripped off his chin, browned his favorite tan covert coat with salty taste. Alfred watched, wide-eyed.

"Artie?"

He reached out to Arthur's other hand, rested on the small table in between them. A slight tremble met his touch, then the sentiment vanished altogether. Arthur was now looking at him, only his eyes were so sad, the gaze and darkness in it all wrenched and twisted Alfred's stomach. He felt as if the black empty void was tearing him apart from the inside, and something was terribly broken. Bitterness gnawed at him.

.

.

.

"Alfred! Wake up already!"

"Erm.. ah...wha?"

He slowly opened his eyes. 'Whoa, too fucking bright… And is that... Matt?' His head hurt so bad he just wanted to bang it against the wall. To hell with it all. A sickly urge to vomit rose up his burning throat. Struggling, he willed himself to fling the white blanket over and attempt to crawl to the bathroom.

"Our flight is this evening, brother. It's 10 now, just saying. About time you get up," Matthew patted his back slightly and helped him stand up.

'What flight?'

* * *

[ 6:24 A.M, London ]

Arthur frantically slammed the door of the red telephone booth shut and leaned against it. As he tried to catch his breath after the run, he removed the slightly dampen tan coat and drooped it loosely over his arm while brushing off the cold water drops. Getting caught in the rain without an umbrella, especially when he already knew it was going to rain all month, was not his idea when going on a "morning walk". Who said wandering about the street was such a good idea in the first place. He sighed and looked outside. Still foggy, not many folks on the street he supposed. Then his eyes caught a sideway glimpse of the shiny telephone in front of him. After what could have been hours of staring blankly at the telephone in complete silent, he finally picked up the courage to touch the handset. Swiftly but carefully, he pulled a small brown notebook out of his back pocket and began dialing, fear and uncertainty running wild circles in his mind. The long beep of the phone connecting suddenly snapped him out of his streaming thoughts. With a sharp intake of breath, he abruptly rammed the handset down, a bit harder than intended.

'What the bloody hell am I doing?' He bit his lip, eyebrows furrowed at the thought.

All the strength in his body left him with a sigh. Sliding down in the phonebooth, his head against the cold glass, he closed his eyes as the air froze around him. Rain continued to fall harder on the orange pavement. The yellow light outside faintly flickered at the sight of morning. He trembled slightly from the chill running through his bare skin. Arthur messed up his hair and gave a deep sigh. Then slowly, he whispered to himself with a pained expression on his face.

"If I had never met you..."

.

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	2. Chapter 1: My Life Before You

_Hi, this is my first fanfic ever and I want to make it good. Please strictly review my work (any review at all would make me extremely happy, really), native slangs and what not; maybe give me some help if you know legal stuffs? Thanks for reading._

_**This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real fact is purely coincidental.** (Yup, I have no idea about any of these legal businesses.) **Also Himaruya owns Hetalia and not me** (sadly)._

* * *

*~*~*~[Monday, London, UK]~*~*~*

"Hello. My name is Linda Sturluson and I'm making this call on behalf of Mr. Kennedy Jones, as his secretary. I reckon you are Ms. Moriah Jones?"

*~*~*~*[Meanwhile]~*~*~*

"Kirkland, I need you for a second." A low voice rang out from behind the ajar glassy office door inside room 24, 3rd floor of Albion Law Firm.

"Yes, Mr. Edelstein."

Arthur stood up and walked toward the attorney's room. Today had been rather slow and he had just finished emailing the last client 15 minutes ago. He was glad to finally have something to do, passing the quiet time at the office. Mr. Edelstein was definitely a strict man, but for a lawyer, he was quite forgiving and doesn't boss Arthur around as much as when he first got this job. You could even say he was rather kind, if not for the fit he usually throw whenever he encounter too many difficult cases with spiteful clients, and when he's drown in stress. One thing Arthur admired about the man, other than his responsible self, was how he would play the piano from time to time, usually when he was thinking.

He could be a great performer if not for his prickly attitude, Arthur guessed.

Arthur grabbed the hand knob, when his expression softened at the streaming melody from behind the door. He walked in as the Austrian continued to play, undisturbed.

"The printer," muttered the pianist nonchalantly as he felt back to a slower pace, his eyes closed.

Arthur picked up the still warm stack of papers.

"Will and other processing papers from an old mentor I have. He's in the hospital right now... and I've heard from his secretary that he might not make it through this month," the man gradually stopped playing and glanced up at Arthur, who was now standing next to the desk, flipping through the papers.

"Just organise the lots and that should be it for today," he sighed and then continued to play on. "Also, call Elizabeta for me? Tell her I'll be home a bit late. I'm going to visit the man after work."

"Yes sir." Arthur met the Austrian's eyes and mumbled some condolences words. Then he quickly removed himself from the room to give the man some space. He would appreciate that, the Englishman thought. Working with him for 4 years had taught the young man more than enough.

He picked up the desk phone and dialed in Elizabeta's number. It was only 3 in the afternoon so she was probably still in class.

"Hullo, teach. Am I disrupting class?" Arthur delivered smoothly into the receiver.

"Hello boy! It's fine. School, you know, free discussion time." Elizabeta's voice came with a cheery laugh. Arthur couldn't help but smile when he talks to her.

"You are doing fine, teach. Just don't carry _that_ around too often." Arthur said with a small laugh as he divided the papers into small stacks.

"What? Oh _that_. No, I've gotta have it around to whip you boys into studying. You've got to know at least that much, Arthur!" The Hungarian said with a wink in her voice.

Arthur spluttered at the comment. "Please, don't mention me in any of your "_discussions_", is all I'm asking."

"No worry, sweetie. Your secret is safe with me. I'm not going to mention any... _names_," she hinted, then laughed in a smaller voice.

Arthur could feel his face heating up in embarrassment at the thought of his old teacher gathering her high school kids up in a little group for a "story time" about his awful wild school days. "... Thanks, teach." He mouthed with a clearly sarcastic tone.

"You are welcome! But enough about me, how's work?"

'_Yup. She's definitely getting a kick out of this_,' Arthur seemed to cried internally.

"It was fine. A bit slow these days, but that's what to be expected after the recession this fall, I suppose." Arthur picked up his tea cup and walked to the cupboard behind him. "That reminds me. I was supposed to call and tell you that your husband's going to be a bit late today. Going to the hospital to visit an old mentor of his whom recently fell ill."

The older woman sighed into the receptor with worries. "Alright, tell him to take care... About Roderich, is he doing fine at work these days? I mean he never tell me anything..."

"Nothing out of the ordinary, I suppose. Maybe he's playing the piano more these days, maybe not." Arthur sipped on the hot tea and sat down again.

"Really? That's a relief. But yeah... we rarely converse much about work related things, as least he doesn't. I guess I'm just thinking too much then."

"I'll keep an eye on him, if you need me to." Arthur leaned back on his chair. This is probably one of the things he likes most about his old teacher.

"Thank you so much Arthur. You are such a sweet kid. Sometimes I wonder if you are actually godsend, really." Elizabeta laughed lightly.

"It's nothing compare to how much I owe you both." Arthur closed his eyes and gave a small laugh himself. He felt like such a kid, talking to his teacher like this.

"No, you are more than we could ever ask for. I would have adopted you a long time ago if you weren't so against it."

"No way, teach. We are barely... what? 5 years apart. And don't remind me of _that_ either." Arthur could feel cold sweat on the back of his neck. His teacher was not the most friendly and warmhearted person in the world, despite her sweet words. Arthur knew she was being sincere, she still is, but sometimes... you couldn't tell. That was another thing he liked about her.

"You are so hard to love, kiddo." Now she was starting to pout. Great.

"I'm not a kid. And teach, you've left your real kids hanging for a while." Arthur rushed as he looked at the watch that said 3:24. He shuddered, suddenly remembered that Elizabeta can go for hours once she have entered that mode. "I'll talk to you another time. Have a good afternoon!"

Unexpectedly, she snapped out of it quite fast. Arthur guessed the worries were getting to her after all.

"Alright poppet. You too." She said softly with a warm smile and disconnected.

* * *

*~*~*~[Sunday, 10 AM, New York, US]~*~*~*

Alfred was startled, woken up from hearing chicken noise screeching in his ear.

"Matthew Williams! You little shit!" he screamed in rage.

He had stayed up until 5 again last night and hadn't have as much sleep as he should. And it was getting to him. The boy ran out of his room, ready to get Matthew, who was innocently sitting on the breakfast table. The light outside was almost blinding; it snapped the American out of his rage.

"Good morning, brother." Matt smiled from his book as Alfred rummaged around, his hand on the wall, trying to get to the kid in the bright light.

"No, you bastard! What was that alarm for? And who opened all the windows?" He shut his eyes tightly as he stumbled out, his head spinning, groping around for balance.

"I got your breakfast. Please go wash your face, brother." Matt flashed him the most charming smile he had got and pointed at the seat across from him.

Alfred, with his sight finally focused, or as focused as he can be without glasses anyway, followed its direction. His mouth watered at the sight of that unusually perfect breakfast in front of him, Big Macs, extra-large pizza, fries, soda and various desserts.

Ugh, the sly kid got him. Alfred was battling his inner voices, to hit the dude then go wash his face, or the wash his face then give Matt a bashing. He finally settled for the third choice, which would be go wash his face, then come back to eat that breakfast, then we settle the inevitable extra violent assault.

"You..." He murmured, walking back to his bathroom. Behind him, he could clearly hear a Matthew giggling from behind his book.

When Alfred got back, Mom was already there, sitting on the sofa, watching the news like she had been there since forever. He found it hard to trust that women from time to time no matter how cool she is, sometimes. Well, most of the time. So he ran over to the table as she continued to focus on some world political report. He nibbled a bite on a slice of his favorite pizza, which probably had as many layers as they could possibly fit on it. That stuff was heavenly good. Alfred's face lit up with happiness. Then he went back to his brother who was contently sipping his favorite maple syrup tea in front of him. Dude is totally fine with that sickening sweet stuff.

"Hey Matt, what's up with the chicken alarm anyway? You usually don't even care if I sleep in until 12..." Alfred mumbled through his second burger.

"Max sent me the ringtone yesterday. Said to send it to sibling," he chuckled at Alfred's expression.

"That was fun."

"Not for me..." Alfred yawned, grabbing the soda. "And all these food? So I don't set you on fire?"

"Yup," Matt chortled, his shoulder shaking slightly. He was usually so cute and sweet, like right now too but... Alfred needed to talk to that Max.

"Hey Mom!" Alfred jumped over to the sofa and gave her an affectionate hug as he tried to cuddle under the warm blanket. She just smiled at the big baby and kissed him on the forehead.

"Morning Alfred. Finally noticing me? I was getting lonely you know." she sulked.

"Anything interesting on the news?" Alfred pouted his lips.

"Nothing much, dear... I might just go and grab a bite." She yawned. "Did Alfred leave anything, Matthew dear?"

"He didn't touch the croissants and pancakes." Matt listed out as he glanced up in his glasses.

"HEY! I wouldn't just gobble up the whole table!" Alfred yelled, his voice muffled by the warm blanket.

Suddenly a ringing sound cut through the conversation. Moriah walked slowly to the kitchen counter and picked up her cell phone.

"Hello," she spoke softly into the receiver with a sweet voice. Alfred had always like listening to his mom's voice on TV when she's at work. She was the local newscaster on channel 12. But he loved it even more in person.

"Ye-yes." she stuttered. "...How may I help you?"

Alfred pulled the 3DS out from under the sofa cushion. Matt caught him in the act and stared at him with wide eyes. He just grinned at the younger boy and stuck his tongue out. Matt just sighed and shook his head in disapproval.

"What happened to him?" the woman gasped. Her hand clapped over mouth as her shoulder began to shake.

This got the attention of the two boys. Matt looked over her with concerned eyes while Alfred just stared at her back in surprise. Then they both quiet down as the women continued her short responses, leaning her arm on the counter. Finally, the mother put down the cell phone and stood there in silent, her hands clutching to her arms.

"What's wrong, Mom?" Alfred asked.

Startled, Moriah turned her head back. Then she walked over to the kitchen table with Alfred following her. She exhaled a soft sigh which broke into a sob.

"Your dad... is in the hospital... They said he might not make it through this month."

* * *

*~*~*~[London, UK]~*~*~*

Arthur ended up bringing the papers home because he needed to look through them. Being a legal secretary is not just answering calls, composing emails, and making coffee after all. He pulled the tan covert trench coat over his brown suit and stepped outside. The air was a bit colder than he expected, being still indoor. He could see light still on from the passing offices. Mr. Edelstein had just left a few minutes ago. Then out of nowhere, his old friend, Kiku Honda, was approaching and giving him a small wave.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Kirkland. How do you do?" The man said politely with a slight bow.

"Hullo, Kiku. I'm fine. You're alright?" Arthur smiled at him. "I rarely see you anymore."

Arthur was a tad bit concerned about why Kiku's here but it would be rude to ask such thing, he thought.

As if noticing the curious glance from the Englishman, Kiku spoke up. "I started working at this law firm as a secretary a few days ago. I thought I would pay you a visit soon but if you are in a hurry then I wish not to inconvenient you."

Arthur's eyes grew wider and he let out a small grin. "Kiku, that's great new! We can see each other more often now. And I'm in no hurry. We can go somewhere and catch up right now, if you want."

"No, it's quite alright. We can talk anytime. But are you sure you'd be alright like that?" Kiku said, his hand pointed to the window.

It was raining steadily outside. Arthur didn't even notice since the building was sound-proofed. More like he hadn't been paying much attention to the weather at all, and expected it to be chilly like this morning.

"Oh bugger. I forgot my umbrella at home." Arthur groaned, face-palmed.

"You can use one of mine if you want to. I always have extras around in case someone needs them. It's winter after all." Kiku offered.

"Really? Thank you, Kiku. You are a life saver. I don't even want to think about walking to the tube in this weather." Arthur patted Kiku's shoulder, giving him his best thankful face.

"It's fine, really. How is work?"

They walked together to Kiku's office. It was a rather short walk, practically two or three rooms down the hall.

Arthur paused a bit, and then sighed. "Nothing out of the ordinary, I guess. It was rather fun at first, I had something to do and it would earn me enough money for a living. But after 4 years, I'm not sure. It's a great job. I just..."

"You want to be an editor."

"Yes—wait! How did you... Oh, right. Gilbert must have told you." Arthur guessed. The Prussian would be the only one who'd bother to bring the Englishman up in any conversation at all.

"Yes. I frequent the pub quite often." Kiku opened the door and walked in.

"Kiku?" a voice came from behind the attorney office's door.

"Yes Mr. Karpusi. Do you need anything? I thought you were about to leave." Kiku pulled a blue umbrella out from the basket cupboard and handed to Arthur.

A man walked out from behind the door. Arthur remembered seeing the man around the past months but he never had the chance to talk to him.

"Nothing much. Hello there. A friend?" The older man asked as he noticed Arthur's presence next to Kiku.

"A pleasure to meet you. My name is Arthur Kirkland. I work as Mr. Roderich's secretary, a few rooms away." Arthur offered the man his hand.

"You too, I'm Heracles Karpusi. I'm sorta new around here I guess." The man spoke in a husky, almost sleepy voice as he shook Arthur's hand. Then he turned to Kiku."I was going to ask if you are free this evening. I got some tickets for this nearby museum. Heard they have cats. Want to come?"

"Thank you for inviting me. And yes, that sounds great. I don't have anything important tonight." Kiku said looked up at the older man.

"Then I'll get going. I'll talk to you another time, Kiku." Arthur waved. "Thanks again for the umbrella. You two have a good time."

Arthur strolled out on a high note, headed for the lift. He was glad Kiku had finally settled down with a new job. The lad had not been himself after he broke up with his ex-boyfriend over some trivial matter. He was so devastated and heart-broken, he went out drinking every night. Arthur was secretly glad that his friend didn't take it further; he wasn't the promiscuous type of guy. That aside, Kiku dating alone was hard enough, judging by how committed he can be in a relationship, Arthur guessed.

By the time Arthur got out of the building, it was already getting dark. The rain was still pounding on the pavement. Arthur used to really like rain. It used to make him feel refreshed and lively. Now he just laughed alone. How fitting. It was just like his mood these days, dark and gloomy. He found himself thanking everyone around him again and again. If not for them, he would have dropped off the Earth and just... die a lonely death. Arthur tried to snap out of his moody self as he stepped on the tube. He sat down on an empty seat and made himself comfortable, snuggling into his coat's collar.

'A 15 minute ride isn't that long. Don't fucking fall asleep,' Arthur reminded himself, though his eyes seems to say otherwise.

* * *

The atmosphere inside the house was darkening at a steady rate. Alfred's cheerful mood was long gone. He tried to chase his thoughts by letting his eyes wander to the TV screen that was still flashing, when Mom finally breached through the sinking silent.

"What should I do..." she said with sniff. Matthew was right beside her, patting her back, his expression more somber than Alfred could remember.

"It's alright Mom. Everything will be fine..." He replied, trying to hide the cold from his voice. He simply refused to believe that he was hearing about his dad, the man who had abandoned them in haste, after so many years, would try to contact them at all.

Alfred had had a warm loving family. He simply couldn't ask for more from such warm-hearted parents, a cute little brother, how the four of them would go on picnic or amusement park every Sunday. Just like a bomb went off, he disappeared from their life. That man had turned his back on them and left without a word 10 years ago. As a 9 years old at that time, Alfred couldn't understand it. His family was torn apart, too fast for him to even comprehend everything. Not much was said between mom and dad, no fight, nothing; except for the fact that he left them with the old house in California, which his mom sold off not long afterward and moved back to her hometown, to Rochester of New York; and a long phone call to mom a few weeks after. He didn't object to her selling the house at all, and Alfred knew that he couldn't ask for anything more than for his mom to stop drinking and neglecting her health after weeks of sleepless slumber. Matthew was only one year smaller than him, and he could only remember the small stifled cries and sniffs from the lower bunk bed most nights.

They eventually found out much later in Alfred's years that the man was the second son of a large corporation in London, and after their supposedly uncle passed away in a car crash, he was to replace the man to keep the business running. The truth came out like those tragic sappy writing of a story book. Even after that, he knew the old memories pricking his heart were not going to simply fade away. More than just a big gap in the family, Alfred could see changes in himself to prove just how much the man's disappearance affected him. Thinking back, he never knew why his parents weren't divorced despite the fact that they were not living together, and hadn't even kept in touch. And they could have just all moved to England instead of being separated. Or were there something else that Alfred didn't know?

Too many questions went unanswered.

And now this.

"One thing though, Mom. Isn't there something you want to tell us?" Alfred turned his head. He looked straight at his mom with unwavering gaze. Finally there was a chance to talk this out, and he wasn't going to miss it. "Anything at all?"

Both Moriah and Matthew were startled by his tone. Alfred rarely sound like that at all. Moriah had only seen him like that twice, and she remembered it clearly. It was... around 6th grade, when he first persisted her about his dad's whereabouts. Another time was when he came back from school 2 years ago and locked himself up in the room all evening. Moriah averted her eyes, then slowly, she straighten up a little bit.

"You are right." She said, eyes still wandering on the white linen table cloth as though she had never seen anything so peculiar before. "I kept this from you both all these time. I knew that I'd have to tell you someday. I wish it didn't have to come so soon."

"Your dad found out he had... lung cancer that year. It was on the brink of stage 2. Then when the opportunity came, he fled to England. I only found out about it all through a phone call. He said that he might have less than 5 years to live... and he didn't want to make us go through it... And how... he wanted us to end it and look for a new life, a better life. I couldn't... I didn't... I'm sorry...," she burst out in tears and sobbed on the tabletop.

Alfred simply froze at his mom's words. He couldn't say anything. Not after this. He looked up at Matthew, who was in complete shock as well. How? All these years, they simply guessed and guessed. His dad left them because he had cancer? How did mom live with all these bottled up inside her? And they didn't divorce or remarried, Alfred furrowed his brows at the thought. 10 years. Not even a letter.

"It's not your fault, Mom."

Matthew draped his arm over the frail-looking woman.

Alfred could only sit there; his emotion boiling in his stomach as all sounds seems to have drained from the room. It was not until after Matthew left for work that he finally snapped out of it and found himself sitting on the sofa again with a blanket over him.

* * *

Arthur finally got home after missing the stop, again. He got out his keys, a mint flying bunny chain attached to it, and quickly made his way into the small flat. He should really learn his lesson since it happened almost every time he dozed off on the tube, he sighed. After making a mental note to return Kiku's umbrella, now lying neatly in the basket with Arthur's many other umbrellas, Arthur stepped out of his shoes and hung up his coat. He found himself in his comfortable unicorn slippers and fairies pajamas not long after, boiling water for a cup of piping hot tea. The idea of tea inside in such a night really warmed him up. It had been a while since he actually had work to bring home. Most nights, he would just do some embroidery, head to the pub, or study. He's still a part-time college undergrad, but he felt just like an old man. Arthur was barely 23. He was somewhat content with his life right now though. He has a job that pay generously, a flat that's not too expensive, and saved money. The only thing left that kept him thinking was probably his future. He didn't want to be a secretary for the rest of his life. But he had planned not to over a year ago by entering the uni. and focus on his journalism major. Something was left out, it seemed, but it was probably nothing important.

Arthur walked leisurely back to the couch with a cup of chamomile tea, unfinished documents on his left hand.

"Again, Kennedy Jones... where have I heard that name before..."

"Wow, the amount of zeroes... to Moriah Jones and his two sons... Alfred F. Jones, Matthew Williams -wait, Williams?" Arthur raised his brows, wondering if he just read that wrong. But no, it's clearly there black on white.

With a piqued curiosity, Arthur flipped through some of the last pages he had. Then one thing hit him.

"Oh. American... Right."

With his interest lost, Arthur hurried through the papers. It was not the first time he had organized wills. It's a first time he had seen the Austrian cared that much though.

After the paperwork was done in smaller manila folders, he stood up and stretched a little. Looking outside through the glass window as he finished his third cuppa, he noticed how the rain had stopped. It was 9 and he didn't feel like having supper. Screw supper then, he thought. Then he mentally hit himself for his old habit. Another day went by. He's content with life, yet he's not. In the end, Arthur forced himself to snap out of this circle of stupidity and just go to bed early for a change.

* * *

*~*~*~[That afternoon, US]~*~*~*

Alfred woke up again after falling asleep on the sofa thinking. He didn't feel like he could take it any longer dwelling into Mom's word. It was just too soon to change his mind and how he had viewed his dad all these years. Too sudden. Matt had gone to his part-time at a nearby flower shop, he usually have the Sunday shifts since he'd be busy with classes for most of the week. Mom wasn't in the house, which she usually wasn't anyway. She only had the weekend off and was usually spent with friends or the neighbors. It was around 3 in the afternoon as he pocketed his phone and was out for a walk. His life had been a mess of indecisions. Most of it was for Mom and Matt. He had studied hard in high school, and 3 years ago graduated the same time with Matt over some weird competition with his smart brother. But after that, his mind was like a train wreck, going about what he really wanted to do. First he thought he wanted to serve his country, be in the military or marine. He didn't though. If he left, his family would be just Mom and his brother. He didn't want that, he didn't want to leave them, and somehow, the image of dad's back would appear in his mind. Then he wanted to be a police officer. It was just... honorable and it would still be serving his country. It would give him great pride just knowing he's protecting his community. But he was a 17 years old fresh out of school. Seventeen. Some other states allowed 18 years old to be a small ranking officer. But not his. 21 would be it. He finally settled for going to college for an associate in the meantime, which was good for his career path anyway. The work load just didn't cut it though. He didn't feel like he was doing enough. So he took a friend's offer of working part-time at a repair shop, usually for trains and tractors. Now that he was out of school, he worked full time at the shop. It was Sunday though. Strolling on the slightly crowded street, the cold nibbling at his jacket, he encountered some signs and billboards. Christmas was only weeks away, again.

Dinner time came before he could notice. Alfred hurried back home, hoping that everyone wasn't already there. He was kinda lucky as Matt was a few steps from the door. They hurried in when they saw Mom from behind the counter.

"Hello boys. Ready for dinner?" His Mom smiled looking up from some roasted chicken freshly baked right out of the oven.

They both answered in unison, which really made their mother happy even after all these years of hearing them.

It was a great dinner, they chatted about their days, how Maria, Mom's best friend's daughter was pregnant again; and how Lars, the flower shop's owner tripped over some tulips and had spent his entire afternoon crying and apologizing to it. All was good, then that happened.

"After some thinking, I had come to this decision." Their mother said with a bright smile as the boys were finishing up." We are going to England."

* * *

_[to be continued...]_

_I hope that you guys liked it. And I'm following this story through and through, with as much love as I have for UsUk, so don't even worry about me abandoning it okay? :) (what am I saying they haven't even met yet... some really cool fanfics I've read are unfinished for years and I'm so sad, I just had to say it)_

_The chicken song Matt pranked Alfred with was: tiny url dot com (slash) lnmnvpr_

_Coming up next with some possible fluff moments * v * -Renny D._


	3. Chapter 2: First Encounter

**_This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to "real fact" is purely coincidental. Also Hetalia's not mine..._**

* * *

It started snowing for this first time this winter. With roughly a few weeks left before Christmas, they started packing for the trip to England.

A few weeks until next year. A few days until he get to meet his dad again. Then any minute might just be the last. Alfred was not in any way ready for all these. So was his family it seemed. Mom kept staring off in the distance and Matt was forgetting stuffs as he read off the list of things they would need, assuming that they would stay at least 2 months.

It would be the first time they leave the states too. Alfred bit his lips as he tried to stuff some clothes in his cabin bag without breaking it somehow. Wherever he's going, he would need some winter wears and those weren't exactly light. They were informed of dad's condition 2 days ago, got the emergency travel paperwork through yesterday and his visa would be here this afternoon or so. The urgent process was unexpectedly smooth for them, even though it was during the end of the year peak period. Mom had booked the tickets that day and they would get on the plane tomorrow. Of course they called off work and informed the relatives as well so someone would take care of the house while they are gone. The only things left to do were packing, and wait. Alfred was going to explode over the frustration of not being able to cram his favorite jacket inside when Matt walked in.

"You know, if you want, you can wear that to the airport?"

Alfred plopped onto the bed at Matthew's voice from the door.

"Too tired for this." he whined. "Are you done over there, Mattie?"

"I think. I've got Mom to help me with the clothes this morning, since we were packing together. I only need to get a few things in my room..."

"You're not bringing that teddy bear with you, right?"

Alfred's mention startled the Canadian, which was plenty to confirm that it was exactly what he was looking for.

"Eh... why not? I can't just leave Kuragino here..." Matthew mumbled his face troubled as he walked faster to his room.

"It's Kumajirou." Alfred sighed with a small chuckle. Matthew is still Matthew.

Then it hit him. "Hey, why is Mom helping you? Why not me too?"

"As I said—" Matthew sighed and was about to repeat before he got cut in.

"Yes, Alfred sweetheart. I'm right here. You should have waked up a bit sooner." His Mom was just outside of his door now. Though she looked a bit tired, she knew better to trust Alfred with his clothes. And her hunch was just right, as the cabin bag was about to break even when it was unzipped and socks were hanging out of the small pockets.

"YAHOO! Thanks a bunch Mom! Anything I can do, other than that?" Alfred asked sweetly, now that he was free of the horrendous task, which made his Mom laughed.

"Can you go make some tags for the cabin bags? I would need them in case anything goes wrong and we can't find the bags. Just put my name and our address— wait, no. Hang on."

She stood up and went out to the kitchen table. Their paperwork was all there, and would probably go into a smaller bag so they can board the plane and get through the custody.

"Here, write this address down." Mom pulled out a small note from a small pocket of her purse nearby.

"Who is this Linda?" Alfred looked over the note Mom gave him.

"Who knows. His secretary, the one who called."

"Oh." Alfred's mind clicked. That person. Of course he didn't expect Dad to call Mom, that's not even physically possible.

"By the way, use that." Mom pointed at the hard poster board in the corner. "Print paper probably won't last, I think."

He snuck a Sharpie and scissor along with the poster board and hurried after her.

On his way back, they spotted a Matthew hanging out at his door.

"Things are going fine over there, dear? Did you find whatever it is?" Mom asked with fondness in her eyes.

"Eh, yes. Hey, Mom... I might need a little bit help though..."

"What is it dear?"

They walked in his room. It was... different from Alfred's room. Much different in fact. Everything was in order and tidy. His cabin bag was already packed and the carry-on bag was organized on his bed.

"There's not enough space for Kurasino... And it would go over the weight limit anyway..." He picked up the bear from the table and gave it a hug.

"Won't the phone strap do?" Moriah smiled sadly at him. Usually, Matthew would carry a smaller version of the bear around, the custom made phone strap of Kumajirou.

"But I can't sleep without him." He looked like he was about to tear up right then.

"Why don't you carry it in another bag then?" Alfred finally spoke up to save the situation. The bear was not that big anyway. He could feel the other two's stare and it was making him a bit uncomfortable.

"Eh... there's a limit on how much you can carry by hand though..."

Dammit. His suggestion went down the drain that easy. And he tried even though he doesn't like that evil teddy bear Matt have had for years at all.

"What the heck Matt? Your stuffs can't possibly be that heavy. Lemme see." Alfred laughed and jumped on the bed, started unzipping the luggage.

"Wait! You can't—"

"What is this? Maple syrup? And 3 big bottles to boot." Alfred yelled out before Matt can do anything.

"You plan to carry these?" his Mom was now looking at him with concerned eyes.

"I found another in his carry-on bag, too." Alfred was not laughing anymore. Wow, the guy have this huge obsession over maple syrup, he didn't even know there were that many bottles stocked in his house.

"I just... I won't survive without them..." Matthew answered softly, avoided their stares.

"Matthew, there is maple syrup in the U.K. I'm sure." his Mom patted his shoulder." You can carry one if you must, but leave the rest and we should have enough space for your bear."

"Okay..." He said dejectedly, putting 3 bottles back in his closet.

The she left to finish the mess in Alfred's room.

"I'm sure you'll be fine Mattie. People can't die over not drinking maple syrup." Alfred zipped the bags back and smiled at the sad boy. That earned him a pretty heated glare from the smaller brother.

The room had gotten much colder than he thought. As Alfred walked out, he could swear he saw the bear making grim face at him from the table.

He suddenly got another idea as ran over to Matt again.

"Hey Mattie, want me to sneak one over there for you? I should have some space if it's just one bottle."

"You would do that?" Alfred could see the enlarging pupils in those violet eyes.

"Of course! Anything for my little brother." Alfred laughed and picked up the bottle that was still in Matthew's hand seconds ago.

"Thank you so much, Alfred!" The Canadian's cheerful mood was back and that made Alfred feel much better too.

He walked out in high spirit, didn't forget to hide the bottle at his back from Mom.

"When are we leaving again, Mom?" Alfred hurried back in his room.

"We leave at 5 in the morning, though the flight won't be until 6: 45. We should be there around 6 in the evening."

His Mom was refolding everything he had in the bag. Alfred put the bottle under his pillow and sat down at his desk and started cutting the board to the right size. It was silent between them again.

"Do you think he want us to visit him?"

"... I don't know, Alfred."

"Do you want to see him?

"Yes, I do."

"Me too then."

*~oO[3: 12 pm]Oo~*

It wasn't long until everything was in place. Alfred checked the house for anything he might have forgotten again. Mom had got the renewed visa and some new hygiene stuffs like toothbrushes and towels. As they sat down at the table, their luggage in the corner of the house, they put the paper work in the manila folders and were ready for a break to eat. Matt ordered 2 pizzas, one for Alfred, the other for the two.

"Somehow it doesn't feel like we are leaving at all..." Matthew smiled, looking a bit sad.

"We'll be back in a flash. It's not like forever ya know." Alfred said, sitting down.

"Do you think the food in the fridge will be fine?" Mom glanced back in concern. Though they would have their aunt take care of the house, they would probably shut down the gas, water and electric since no one would be using it.

"There's still food in the fridge?" Matthew gasped.

"Not as much since I didn't go shopping that Sunday, but yes, milk, ice cream and some frozen desserts... yogurt, Alfred's frozen pizza, your maple syrup.. That's about it I think. The food on the cabinet probably won't be expired." She uttered nervously. "Giving it to the neighbor would be kinda awkward, but I don't want to throw away the lots."

"Think Max would clean the place out for us? I think he would." Alfred laughed. The Canadian didn't like the idea, but Max probably would... as long as it has nothing to do with Alfred. Well, what he doesn't know won't hurt him, the pizza was untouched anyway.

"I'll text him over this evening anyway." Matt said as he picked up another slice. "Aren't you going to tell Natalia or Ivan?"

"Natalia maybe. Ivan no. Why?" Alfred drank his soda and looked up at Matt. They were the siblings living a block away that the brothers used to go to school with. Ivan and Alfred was quite some enemy in middle school, but who know, they might have become friends somehow. Maybe not. But Natalia was sorta his adopted sister a while back. She's pretty cool to talk to, most of it was trashing Ivan, but that kinda blurred out over the year too and now they mostly talk about rock music. She would go on trips with the two brothers to historical places and tours, which usually turn out badly with her occult view freaking everyone out. He visited the Russian kids from times to time now to spar with Ivan and borrow rock CDs from Natalia.

"Don't you have to return some CDs to Natalia then? I found them lying sloppily on your bookshelf."

Oh shit. No kidding, the girl would be furious and come "knocking" on their door if Alfred didn't return the CD after a month from the day he borrowed them.

"I'll go visit them this evening... By the way Mom, do you mind if I visit Toris while I'm over there too?" Alfred was more close to Toris. He was probably the only other person Alfred was in talking term with. Toris is pretty easy to get along with and is probably the nicest guy in the neighborhood. But he've got the worst luck, having to put up with Ivan and Alfred's continuous fight years back. The poor guy was also stuck with this annoying but extremely shy Polish dude, who happened to be his current boss at work.

"It's fine, tell him I said hello. And be back before late okay? You would need your sleep to wake up early for tomorrow's flight." she smiled at him.

"No problem, Mom!"

* * *

*~oO[London]Oo~*

Arthur slipped onto a seat at the counter in the usual pub. The small radio was playing some classical for once, considering that the owner wouldn't stop playing his rock music almost nonstop, all day, every day. Arthur adores rock. But a change was nice too.

"Oi Gil. Just wine if you please." He beckoned at the laughing bartender at his right.

Gilbert turned to the Brit and laughed even louder.

"Hey it's Arthur! How have you been, not drinking your arse off for a whole week? Missing my awesomeness?" He said with a small wink.

"Bugger off mate. Pour the drink. Long day." Arthur sighed irritably at the albino, who was literally jumping around on his feet.

"Whatever dude, I'm totally awesome. Here ya go, my awesome drink." A drink went sliding from the Prussian's hand. Then he went off laughing maniacally again with some friends. Arthur sighed again as he catch the drink, wondering why he still frequent this pub. Why he was that guy's friend in the first place. Then there's the whole complicated story about how they met multiple times involving Roderich and Elizabeta that are too long to even think of. Suddenly there's a sound of chair sliding out, then a person quietly sat down next to him.

"Hello Arthur-san. Good to see you here."

Arthur turned to his side to find Kiku with a small drink on his hand. The Japanese had obviously been here for a while already.

"Hey Kiku. Alright?" They usually see each other at the pub so it didn't even surprise him anymore.

"I'm fine. What about you?"

"Thursday... been a freakishly long day, I don't know what else to tell you... But that aside, how's the new job going?"

Arthur was particularly interested in knowing how the Japanese man have been, working under the new lawyer. He saw them the other day out in the hall, and they seemed to be in some heated conversation, it would have seemed impolite to cut in.

"It's alright. I'm still trying to learn some new things here and there, but I get general idea on most of them. Heracles-san had been pretty cooperative and helped me out a lot." Kiku looked at the drink, a small smile about to play on his lips.

"How was the date to the museum the other day?" Arthur suggested, teasingly.

"It was fun— wait no, it was not a date at all!" Kiku blushed, his hand trying to reject the idea. "They had this cat festival with arts and cat figurines... it was cute. Though Heracles-san bought a lot of souvenirs. Got me a cat too..."

"Really? That sounds wonderful." Arthur chuckled at the image of two grown men carrying too many plushy cats on their arm. He then smirked to himself while looking at how red in the face his friend was.

"DID I JUST HEAR ABOUT KIKU HOOKING UP WITH SOMEONE?" The loud Prussian popped into their conversation uninvited and made a ridiculous statement.

The pub was rather local and most people are regular, which earned them even more attention. Kiku was now on the table with his head down on the countertop. Arthur couldn't do much more but smile apologetically as he gave Kiku a light pat on the shoulder, then turned to Gil and gave him a shuddering silent F finger with the most forceful smile he could pull. Stupid Albino, messing up his scheme of possibly being a future Cupid. Arthur chuckled at himself and his ridiculous thought.

He got himself a fifth drink as Kiku left, and hummed to a catchy song somewhere, until he noticed the lyric. Jazz?

* * *

0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0

_'Bout twenty years ago way down in New Orleans,_  
_A group of fellers found a new kind of music._  
_An' they decided to call it.._  
_Jazz!_

_No other sound has what this music has._  
_Before they knew it, it was whizzin' 'round the world._  
_The world was ready for a blue kind of music,_  
_An' now they play it from Steamboat Springs to La Paz._

_Oh baby, won't you play me_  
_Le Jazz Hot, maybe,_  
_And don't ever let it end._  
_I tell ya friend, it's really somethin' to hear._  
_I can't sit still when there's that rhythm near me._

_Also, baby, Le Jazz Hot, maybe_  
_What's holdin' my soul together!_  
_Don't know whether it's mornin' or night;_  
_Only know it's soundin' right._  
_So come on in and play me_  
_Le Jazz Hot, baby,_  
_'Cause I love my Jazz...hot!_

_0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0_

* * *

*~oO[A few hours ago, London]Oo~*

Alfred got down from the plane feeling more enthusiastic than ever. Mom and Matt were kinda tired from the long trip and raging headaches hit them hard. Him, on the other hand, just slept the entire time listening to music, woke up for lunch, which wasn't all that bad, watched this odd movie on the plane, then he fell asleep again. Now he was full of energy and ready to go explore this London he'd been hearing so much about

"You alright Mom? I'll get that." Alfred leaped after her and took the cabin bags from the carousel. Mattie was hanging on there; he just walked a bit more slowly as he tried to adjust after the flight.

At the welcome area, they spotted the secretary in no time at all, a mature-looking but young woman with brunette hair in a small bun, blue eyes, and dark blue secretary uniform. She was right there smiling at them with 2 other men carrying a big welcome sign. Alfred found it awesome, while the other two just laughed nervously at all the attention they were getting from passerby... and how suspicious the men in black tuxes were.

They got a ride to a nearby hotel, a pretty big one too, called Hampton by Hilton London Waterloo with already booked rooms, 1 for mom and another twin room for the brothers.

"How is everyone doing?" Linda smiled as she walked over after she told the men to carry in the luggage.

"Thank you Linda. You didn't have to do all these..." Moriah gave a troubled smiled as she sat on the lobby chair, trying to get over the jet lag.

"Not at all. It's the chairman's order. And we don't have to immediately go tonight. You can just rest for tonight and I'll have the boys pick you up tomorrow, does that sound good?" She insisted.

"Are you sure? That would be much better." Moriah smiled.

"Not a problem. Would 9:30 in the morning be okay for you?"

"Yes. Thank you. May I ask how he's doing these days?"

...

While they were talking, Alfred was helping with the luggage since he was free anyway.

"Dude, like your tux! I'm Alfred." He smiled at the British men in tuxes. They are around the same height, skinnier than Alfred, maybe a bit shorter, but they looked friendly enough. There's some resemblance, maybe they are brothers? One had brunette hair, other blond, and blue eyes.

"Call me Robert. Linda's brother." The brunette patted Alfred's shoulder.

"I'm Greg. No jet lag?" The other grinned at him.

"Nah, I'm totally cool. How old are you guys? You look younger up close."

"24, my brother's 21. You?" Greg nodded thoughtfully.

"Aww, 19. Thought you guys would be around my age." Alfred laughed.

They talked some more as they gave the family a short tour of the hotel, which they later found out, was owned by Linda's relative. When they were done, Mom and Matthew sorta retired to their room for a nap. Alfred however, was too excited for anything like that.

"Mom, you should rest in. Do you mind if I go out for a bit though?" He asked as they were about to leave.

"Go head. You have your phone and some money right?" she said after a yawn. "Remember to adjust your watch..."

"It's alright. I'll give him a tour, ma'am. No worries!" Robert swung his arm around Alfred's shoulder and grinned.

"Linda, do you mind if I borrow your cousin for a tour around London then?" Alfred asked excitedly.

"Not at all. Take Robert. I need Greg to drive me." She laughed cheerfully. "Have fun, boys!"

"Thank you so much. This is gonna be so awesome!" Alfred practically danced as he grabbed his pal and head outside.

...

"So where do you wanna go first?" They got some food on the way and after filling the stomach, Robert asked as they walked down the streets. The hotel was a 5 minutes walk from the London subway so that was another plus if Alfred ever wanted to go to hot spots around here.

"I dunno. I don't want to go anywhere far since it's almost 8. Any cool places still open around these hours?"

"Hmm... there are many... but you probably have heard of them... wait. One place I bet you never set a foot in." Robert flashed a boyish grin. "Your mom is not against alcohol hopefully?"

"Nope, she's a pretty good drinker herself. She quit though and probably only drink in occasions now." Alfred said innocently, a twinge of hurt pierce his heart remembering the past, but it faded soon as they stood before a pub sign named "Preußens Kneipe".

"German?"

"A Germanic pub, Prussian to be exact. You are 19 if I remember it correctly? As long as your mom doesn't mind, no harm done?" Robert winked at the man.

"That's so cool! But I don't wanna get drunk so just checking it out a little bit?"

"I'll hold you to it."

"I should really be feeling this distrust since you just showed me a bar as the first place to visit in London." He laughed jokingly.

"It's really all there is to London. People get drunk and have a good time." Robert explained as if it's the most common thing on Earth.

The pub looked old, but everything looked expensive in shiny wood with tip top condition. A big flag with an eagle on it, probably Prussian flag, was hung near the ceiling, many iron cross was spread throughout the pub. Another flag, this time the U.K.'s, was by the right side. There wasn't many crowds of people around like Alfred had expected in a pub, but the atmosphere was pretty warming and friendly. Slow classical was in the air, which make the place even more desolated.

"Hey Robbie! Newcomer? How can I help you?" The bartender greeted as they moved closer. White hair and...red eyes? Okay, one have gotta be fake. Or he's an albino, Alfred thought. That's still pretty awesome stuff. The man was probably the owner of the place, seeing there's no other waiter or waitress around.

"He's with me. Just a light drink for him. I'm just here to show him around town, so beer for me." Robert leaned toward on the counter.

"I'll have bourbon." The American said cheerfully, which earned a slight raised brow and a pat at the back from Robert.

"Bourbon it is then! You've gotta try our beer next time though. It's most awesome thing in the world~" The Prussian quickly got out the glass and poured the drink. "So where are you from boy?"

"New York." Alfred said, and then took a small drink. Robert left him with the man as he trailed off to talk to a friend nearby.

"Vacation?" he raised his brows.

"Nah, just some emergency family thing. My dad's in the hospital."

"Tough life, kid. I know how it feels; I'm left with my smaller brother."

"Hmm... Hey, don't you think the music is a bit bland?" Alfred said as he finished the drink. Not as bad as he thought it would be. He didn't even feel anything yet, which is probably a good thing.

"It's just today. My friends are kinda having a bad day. Not gonna blast him with my rock, though it's awesome. Don't tell him though." the bartender smiled, a genuine smile with a bit of worry dashed on his face, but it suited him.

"What's your name?"

"Gilbert Beilschmidt. Call me Gil."

"Okay, Gil. You know classical is not gonna cheer your friend up right? Mind if I make a suggestion?" Alfred grinned through his second glass.

"Go for it, cowboy. You have an IPod or something? The stuff is over there at the end of the counter."

Alfred sneaked inside and when for the audio mixer with a bunch of cords lying around, the probably expensive main speaker explained the high quality sound. Plugged his phone in, he searched for his Glee album. It's kinda a soft topic that he still liked Glee, but they have some pretty good covers. And these British people probably wouldn't notice anyway.

"Le Jazz Hot" streamed through the air at a not too loud volume. It's not really his fav, but it'll do.

"Oi, isn't this a Glee cover, Gil? I didn't know you listen to tha— Oh, hullo there." A man stood up and looked in from the counter seat. His mesmerizing green eyes stood out most from the dark shadow his face was cast in, due to the light above.

"Hey. Problem?" Alfred looked up and smiled. He was not ready for criticism against his music this soon but it happens, all the time actually.

"Not really. I just thought it's not really Gil's style... Where is he?" The man was now seated again, leaning on the counter. Alfred now noticed the most visible feature on his face was not his eyes after all, but his eyebrows. They are... slightly larger than normally seen, but it's kinda cute in a way, Alfred don't know why.

A voice rang out behind them before Alfred could answer.

"Over here, I'm so disappointed that you didn't notice the absence of awesome me. I was just getting some more beer and whiskey." He laughed loudly as he put the bottles form the crate in places.

"Oh shut it... Give me another?" the man leaned his face on the cool wooden surface.

"You have work tomorrow don't you?"

"It'll be fine. I'm fine."

Light by Ellie Goulding started playing. Alfred almost forgot he had it on shuffles at the waiting room before the flight.

"Ah. This song." The Brit on the counter suddenly started talking again.

"Yeah?"

"It's my old teacher's favorite." he laughed lightly.

"I wouldn't have remember it if I were you." Alfred sat down on a chair he found at the corner. Gil didn't seem to mind him, still chatting with some girl on his right hand.

"She's a special case." the man sounded almost sleepy now.

"Yeah?" Alfred got himself a cup of beer form Gil.

"She saved me."

"Hmm, yeah. Teachers are really cool, ya know. I had this physic teacher a while back. His class was the hardest I've had in all of my year. And somehow, I ended up being the black sheep ya know. Just because I know stuffs, because I excel his class... At the end of the year, he called me back and told me that I was his favorite student in all his years teaching, and he found me as a challenging student than just any other that wanted to pass for credit."

The man was now sitting upright, his face leaning slightly on his right palm. A goofy smile played across his lips, his face was a bit pink due to the alcohol. Somehow, Alfred felt a little bit of tingling red on his face. Must have been his imagination.

"My teacher used to hit me. With a frying pan."

"What the heck dude?" Alfred was a bit unsure if the man was being serious. Maybe he was too drunk?

"Death serious. I deserved it though. I was saved by frying pan." The man laughed dryly.

Then he gave a really warm smile at Alfred.

"She was the best teacher I could ever ask for." He said softly, and then plopped onto the counter.

Alfred was a bit surprised, but he smiled at the sleeping man in front of him. The he picked up a ball pen somewhere and wrote a note on the man's hand.

Then he pocketed his phone and said goodbye to Gil, who just looked at the passed out man on the counter with pitiful eyes, then tried to get him on the sofa a few feet from there.

Robert was waiting for him outside, smoking in the cold weather.

"Did you have a good time?" Robert glanced over. "I feel like I could have taken you to a more interesting place, not a pub anyway."

"I did have a good time though. Thank you Robert."

"No problem. It just happened that frequent this place. I don't even know why, since I don't live near here or anything. It's not the nicest pub around either. It just... draws you in, eh?"

"Yeah." Alfred smiled, thinking about how the man, who he didn't even know name of, would react in the morning at the small note.

* * *

"You probably won't remember

but I think your teacher must be great.

Hitting people is still pretty awful,

but you looked happy.

Smile more often :D

- Alfred"

* * *

_[to be continued...]_

_I'm really sorry how this chapter took so long, due to personal reasons (it's just I got sick, then there's final week...)_

_Hopefully you enjoyed the chapter. I'll update every other Monday from now on probably. Thank you for reading! -Renny D._


	4. Chapter 3: Rainy Days and Fated Meetings

_**Hetalia's not mine...**_

_I'm so sorry for the late chapter!__(again)__ But I'm sure you'd understand once you've read everything... This chapter was really hard to write due to many reasons...you'll see ; v ;_

* * *

Arthur woke up to the loud noises of talking and laughing around him, which was strange, since of course he lived alone. A peek to the bright yellow light above, he rolled over and noticed that he was probably drunk at the pub, due to how heavy his body felt and the slight migraine still persisting. An urge to vomit rose up his throat as he struggled to sit up. Something was suddenly shoved in front of him. An empty ice bowl and a cold towel... from Gilbert?

"You better not dirty my sofa after I went through the pain of removing your disgusting vomit last time!" Gilbert stood next to him, his face going blue at the memory.

"Haha, sorry... Thanks." Arthur laughed nervously as he wiped his forehead with the towel and loosen some buttons on his shirt.

Behind him, Francis was talking to Antonio about some guy he met this morning on the street. Then he glanced over to Gilbert, who was now cleaning the tables.

"What time is it?"

"It's 7:27 in the morning. Feeling okay, _mon cher_?" The French greeted him with the usual unwanted endearment.

...

Arthur felt sick.

"Excuse me." He honestly tried to not be rude, storming fast to the bathroom while avoiding the heartbreaking scene Francis was enacting. Well, the frog better learn to give up soon or some towel was going straight down his throat.

Arthur wasn't pissed. He was more... uncomfortable. His first impression of the flashy pâtissier hadn't been exactly great. It was horrible, really. Francis fucking grabbed his arse first thing right after they were introduced to each other like 3 years ago. After that, it had been this constant one-sided flirting thing, which didn't improve their relationship, only gave the English man the _chill _from time to time. The man asked Arthur out for dinner several time, but Arthur straight out rejected him, well aware of his utter motives or what not.

He was going to wash his face, hoping the horrible and troubling memories would go away. But the urge to puke came again. Ugh. He had sworn not to get drunk again and again, and it never worked out. Oh well. It could only get better after he got the excessive amount of liquor out of his system, Arthur sighed. He then proceeded to wash his face, until something blue caught his eye. What are there writings on his right palm? They were still pretty clear, but didn't save Arthur the headache trying to decipher the joined-up scribbles while his head was still spinning.

'Teacher? ...What is this about?' Arthur tried to remember last night. Nothing but hazy ...blurry ...swirls come to mind. That was not unexpected either. He looked up and started to wash his face. Who was Alfred again? Sounded familiar. Last night, after Kiku left, he continued drinking... Then somewhere he heard that Glee song and... His head hurts. He decided not to dwell on the matter any longer and get the fuck out of there.

"Gil, do you happen to know where my jacket is?" He asked nonchalantly as he made his way out. Thank god the Frenchy left, he shuddered.

"Behind the counter. You threw it off last night. Gilbird was kind enough to get me to notice it. You should be so grateful of awesome me babysitting you, Arthur." Gilbert was off to his little world again, probably. Arthur chuckled and went to retrieve the jacket.

_"Thank you."_ he said jokingly.

The man had this obsession with small chicks and it's rather cute actually. He occasionally carried the yellow puff to work, but mostly, it would stay with Antonio, his best friend who happened to be the vet, for the day.

"By the way, do you happen to know who I was talking to last night?" He fixed himself a bit and put on the jacket.

"You don't remember? Hmm... He was a newbie. American. Pretty rad dude, came with Robert." Gil said seemingly as if he was reading out of a diary for something. "He probably won't be back though."

"Ah."

Arthur's mind was a bit clearer now. Another American Alfred. America better not be full of freaking Alfreds. The name isn't even that common nowadays.

"What? Did he leave you his contacts or something?" Gil smirked at the Brit and laughed loudly.

"Wha— No! What are you talking about?"

"Nein, it just looked like you had fun last night. Haven't seen you smile like that in ages."

"I smiled?" Arthur asked, his brows rose slightly with concern.

"Za."

"Oh." He bit his lower lips slightly, then walked out, still thinking about the odd mention. He still couldn't really remember.

"See you, Gil. Thank you for everything."

The Prussian shouted some rude remarks after him about not coming back. Silly guy. Still, Arthur was rather touched the Prussian put up with him at all.

The sun was already up now, though the cold air still lingered. Thankfully, the rain is not yet here, and Arthur needed to go home and change for work. His job at the law office won't start until 9, although he'd have to hurry for breakfast... His day hadn't had the greatest start, but who knows, it could only goes up from there. Nothing beats a small smile to oneself, he thought, thinking about the mysterious person's writings again.

* * *

Alfred slept in late and didn't wake up until 8 when Mom brought him his breakfast. He was feeling sluggish, but of course he'd have to get up and get ready for the trip to Dad's. He sighed at the mention... Alfred wasn't as ready to face his dad as he thought, it seemed.

"I got your clothes, too, Alfred." Mom placed the garment on Alfred's bed as he walked out from the restroom.

"Do you think I'll have time for a fast shower, Mom?" He haven't exactly bath for sometimes. Maybe two days... Ew.

"Hurry, hun!"

"Hey Mom, I'm back." Matthew walked in, a small bag of fresh bagel in his arm and another red bag hanging at his side.

"Hello Matthew dear. How's outside?" Mom helped him with the lots.

"It's fairly nice right now. Gonna rain soon though." He put down the bread at the coffee table.

"What's this? Souvenir so soon?" she assumed in surprise as she put the red box down.

"No, the baker gave it to me this morning. It's was a bit strange." he flicked his finger at the top. "It's some chocolate cake, but it looks too good to eat... I'll put it in the fridge for later."

"Maybe it's what the British do." Mom pursed her lips and shrugged.

"I don't know? He spoke French." Matthew sat down ans started to cut his still warm bagel, his maple syrup ready on one side.

Alfred walked out with his towel hanging on his shoulder, water still dripping from the shower, humming.

"Who's French? Ooooh, bagel!" He tiptoed over and stole a slice. "It's actually pretty good. You went out and bought this?"

"Yeah, while I was downtown. I don't like the hotel's food." Matt dipped his bagel in maple syrup. Alfred jeered.

"The food's not that bad, Matthew. Here, Alfred. Your breakfast." Mom pushed the said tray in front of Alfred. "Try some."

"M'kay!"

. o . O . o .

"Are we ready?" Linda greeted everyone with her brightest smile at the door.

"Yes. How are you?" Mom hugged her and they were off to the car outside.

"I'm great! You look much better compare to yesterday, ma'am." Linda seemed a bit too polite today, he thought. Maybe something happened.

"Oh, I bet." Mom giggled.

Alfred followed them, his hand in pockets. It was raining outside. 'First time seeing London rain. Probably not the last', Alfred thought as they drove away. The rain was kinda depressing so Alfred put his headphones on and played some rock.

Everyone around him was chatting politely and surprisingly, he decided not to butt in. People have said that he can't read the mood at all. Alfred amused himself with some childish thought of rubbing this moment in their face.

"Hey, Al! Doing alright?" Robert winked at him from the driver's seat with a smirk. That, unexpectedly, managed to turn some certain grown-up switch off in Alfred. He was not used to all these gloomy sky, but there had got to be some sunlight after all. And Alfred had decided to be that sunlight.

"I'm fine! Hey, will it really rain all day every day in London like everyone said?" Alfred exclaimed excitedly. He'd been meaning to ask this for sometimes actually, and this was a perfect opportunity, being in England and all!

"Pretty much, yes. You don't like it?"

"Nah, I'm okay, it rains a lot in Rochester too. But it's a different kinda rain..." He looked outside. "London rain is like this melancholic thing, ya know... like someone just want to hide away, so he isolated himself from other, confined in this forever gloomy world..."

The street was more solitary than he though. In NY, there'd still be people going about on the street no matter the weather. The rain, in Alfred's world, had always made things look brighter... and more beautiful. It'd take him away from the busy city and maybe appreciate the greenery for once in while as he take a stroll down the park near his home. He could be this hopeless romantic sometimes.

The car got a bit quiet. Everyone was looking at Alfred except for Matt, who was just texting quietly, expected him to continue. It was rather surprising, for anyone upon meeting Alfred. No one thought he'd had any fancy in lofty literature side, at all. Matt just got so used to it growing up next to him. Of course, Alfred was just being Alfred, the valedictorian of his class, captain of football team, every girl's heart-throb at his old school. He could have gotten into MIT easily, if he wanted. Matt gave a small grin at Alfred.

"Stop talking like an old man, Al. You sounds almost... _sophisticated_." He failed to contain his giggle at old Alfred.

"HEY I'm your BIG brother, Matt! Don't make fun of me!" he pouted his lips and tackled Matt.

Then everyone joined in, laughing at the silly brothers, as the rain seemed to subside. Alfred couldn't hope for more.

They soon arrived at the Royal London Hospital. Mom was looking more nervous than ever, biting her lips and tensing up a bit, Alfred noticed. He suddenly laughed cheerfully as he put his arms around her shoulder and Matt's from the back.

"It'll be fine. I can't wait to see him!"

He gave it a gentle squeeze, which made Mom looked back and smile, though the nervousness never left her face. Linda nodded as she walked ahead to lead the way.

"Here we are, room 13. He's informed of your visit. I'll just wait out at the lobby." Linda knocked at the door, then winked at them and waved good-bye.

"Thank you, Linda. See ya!" Alfred sounded, gleefully.

Then when he turned back to the other two, there was impenetrable silence among them. No one made any move. They simply stared at the cold door's handle. Nothing was heard from the inside either. Mom eventually moved her shaky fingers to the handle and turned it, slowly and carefully. They paused again before walking in.

As they pictured, there he was, sitting on the white sheet by the opened window. There were tubes hanging around, but most have probably been removed, judging by how empty the room felt.

It had been so many years since Alfred last seen the man he thought he'd forget. He had aged, and his cancer had taken much from him. His hair, as many as he had left, had become gray here and there. He looked too thin and weary. They could hear the rain pouring from outside as if it was trying to drown the silent between them, so they could stay forever without a word.

"Kennedy."

He turned to face them, and at that one moment, Alfred was sure he'd seen the man from the past, the man who would tell him bedtime stories, kissed him goodnight, one who taught him how to treat his new brother. They were the memories he'd tried to cast away, he really tried, but it was always there, always haunting Alfred, together with the childhood dreams of his dad returning with that smile on his face again, and how his family would... be together again.

Just like before.

Unbroken.

It was his smile that was so familiar to Alfred. It would trigger the painful memories in him.

He turned away and avoided the man's gaze, feeling bashful, as if that part of himself was exposed to the man at the moment, and how the same man sitting there would see through him like it was written all over his face.

"I haven't seen you in so long." The man said with a sad but most genuine smile as he looked over to his wife and his grown sons in front of him.

Mom, unable to control her emotion, bursted out in tears, her shoulder trembling. Matthew looked away too, though at least, he was tearing up. Alfred stood there, felt his heart was cold as ice, unable to forgive the man, unable to just let it go. And still, something pricked his heart.

Things started to quiet down as Mom sat down next to him. Then they would talk, about all kinda stuff. Dad's condition never came up though, as if they were afraid of jinxing something, something that was terribly broken and unrepairable. It was just Mom and Dad doing the talking. Alfred and Matthew quietly sat on the cold chair, their back against wall, just staring at the couple in front of them, the floor, the scenery outside the window. Anything but meeting their parent's eyes.

After Dad went back to England, he got a small house, though most of his days were spent at the company or in the hospital. The part about him replacing his brother at the top of the company was true too. So he worked and it was that way for 3 years. It had helped him with the treatment plan, using his money and his relative's help as a condition to him being there. It did much to prolong his time. But then he was dismissed from the position to a lower one that wouldn't require as many hours. He spent much of his months off traveling Europe, 6 years passed by just like that. His condition got worse over time, and he had stayed here since last month.

Alfred sat listening to the man's words. Simple words between long paused, not a hint of resentment. Anger was bubbling through Alfred's vein. He had no idea how the man must have felt all those years working like a puppet for his superficial family. The thought disgusted him that they were informed of his condition and knowing that, they still wanted him to just be there for the time so the spoiled new heir could easily take over later on without much trouble than if they would have let a stranger, a man who was maybe more healthy, to hold the position. Then he grew angry at the fact that everyone was too afraid to even bring up the word cancer. Then anger toward his dad, for not even resenting his family full of contemptible, corrupted, degraded, greedy bastards or the cancer that was slowly killing him from the inside.

"Why didn't you come back to us?" Alfred spoke up for the first time, still avoiding his dad's eyes.

The man, though surprised at his word at first, was sadden by it in seconds. Then he looked away, outside the window again.

"I couldn't." He said in a low voice. "I couldn't bring myself to. You see... I couldn't decide then, whether or not it was the right decision..." He let out a heavy sigh.

The room grew colder and the rain began to pelt louder on the window sill outside. Everyone seemed to shuddered lightly as he continued.

"I started to accept the fact that I only have a few years left. And there were so many thing I wanted to do before... you know, before I'm gone. I started looking at other things. So many things I wanted to do."

He looked back to his wife, who was looking intensely at him with a painful expression. Then to his children, who finally looked at him than just avoiding his eyes. This time, he was the first to look away, gazing tiredly down at the white sheets.

"I made my choice. And don't get me wrong, because now I'm glad I did... If I haven't left, I would have regretted it. A lot." He said, a lot more firmly than a while ago. "Forgive me."

Alfred was facing the floor again, his fists shaking in front of him. That was plain bullshit. He felt like he had just seen another side of the man, and a selfish one. His face was hot, but his nose felt cold, probably because of the open window, he told himself.

Suddenly, Moriah stood up from the chair, her shoulder tensed. And though Alfred couldn't see her face, Moriah was most probably in tears.

"So you don't regret leaving me?" her voice was cold and determined, unlike her stance, looking as if she was about to break any minute.

Kennedy looked up at his wife.

"No." he said, without hesitation.

She turned her back and immediately stormed out of the room as quick as possible.

Alfred was almost bewildered at his answer. Not in any other time did he want to punch his dad as badly as he does now. He wanted to stand up and just get out of the room. So he did. Only, when he looked back at dad for the last time... his anger faltered.

The man's face, his expression, was the most sorrowful and crestfallen. He looked like a man who had just got his heart broken. Why was he allowed to look that way, when he was the one who broke Mom's heart, without even the slightest hesitation? _How?_

Alfred left, running after Mom. She needed him.

He could only hear the fading wheezes and coughs from behind him.

* * *

Arthur's day was actually good for once. He got done with his paperwork quickly; thank god the headache was gone by then. Then Kiku came over for lunch, he didn't want to eat alone since Heracles had to leave for something urgent about his brother. Roderich joined them, which surprised Arthur. Usually he'd just work through lunch break to get done with whatever first, then come out for lunch. They had a rather good time, well, as good as talking about politics and the weather could get. But it was much better than rushing to finish at lunch time, alone.

Then the rest of that day, Arthur got a few appointments scheduled, wrote a few short reports, finished up papers for one or two cases, well he typed them according to Roderich's draft and formatted it, that was all. He worked fast, unlike most people, who would just get distracted with personal phone calls and emails. Roderich didn't have any appointments this afternoon, which is a surprise since they are almost always packed on Fridays. A pleasant surprise. He rarely got some time to spare now and then in the office so naturally... he started working on his school assignment. Though it might seemed impossible, Arthur always found time to get his school work done. No matter if he was holding 2 jobs, he was attending online school for an associate degree that he planned to go further into a bachelor for journalism. And though he struggled sometimes, especially on the math and science courses right now, he was more determined than ever.

His phone 3 o'clock alarm buzzed slightly on the white tabletop, telling him it was time to leave. He rubbed his eyes, worn out from staring at the computer this whole time, stretched and cleaned up his desk. Another week gone in the dust, Arthur found it rather hard to believe Christmas was in two weeks. Before that, there was also the 23rd. He usually didn't celebrate Christmas because of it. But every year, there was that emptiness and maybe a bit of loneliness eating him on the inside. He walked down the street in his tan coat, under his favorite black umbrella, his breath fogging. _It'll start snowing before I know it_, he smiled sadly to himself.

. o . O . o .

"Eww, it's Arthur again! Mom, Arthur's here!"

Okay, that wasn't very nice. He stood in front of a typically small house with light blue roof, his fist clenching at the commotion from inside. He couldn't wait to get his hand on that brat's cheek, just to pinch the hell out of it. Every Tuesday and Friday afternoon at 4 o'clock, Arthur would go to Berward and Tino's house to tutor Peter, their son, and Raivis, a boy from the nearby orphanage. Peter was a brat without class, no matter how many times he looked at him. Even when his adoptive parents were the nicest people around, it didn't seem to have rubbed off to Peter. Not at all.

"Peter, don't be rude to your teacher!" A muffled tenor male voice was heard. Then the door opened, revealed a short and rather timid boy.

"Hello, Mr. Kirkland. Please come in." Raivis answered the door and greeted him shyly.

"Thank you, Raivis. How are you?" Arthur pat the little kid on his head; at least he was polite, hard-working and was not a little shit like Peter.

He hung his coat to the hanger at the doorstep and came around the kitchen.

"Hello, Tino and Berwald." Arthur gave a courteous smile at the couple sitting at the the dining table.

"Tervetuloa, Arthur! Please sit down and have a snack." Tino smiled brightly at him, pointing to the chair next to him. Berwald was sitting next to him with a book in his hand. He looked up and gave a slight nod at Arthur's arrival.

"Thank you." Arthur said as he walked over to the table.

It had become a ritual that every time Arthur came over, they would have snack ready for him, since they knew that he came straight from work and hardly had any time to eat. Arthur appreciated their kindness, and that was probably the reason why he was still here, sticking around to teacher Peter. The boy settled down to the seat next to him, his cheeks leaning on the small palms.

"Hey Eyebrows. Why can't you just stop coming every Friday?" Peter poked at Arthur's elbow, his lips pouted.

"I would, if you stop being a big baby and grow up a little." Arthur said as he finished his sandwich.

"Hey that's not nice. I'm very much of a grown up!" He proudly stood on the chair, hand over his chest.

"Yeah? How come a _grown up_ is calling others with anything other than their given name? I don't recall my name being eyebrows."

Tino was now giggling in the background. It was always this lively every time Arthur came over. Arthur cleared his throat, as he had no wish to stoop to Peter's level of immaturity.

"Oh yeah? I've heard my parents calling each other a bunch of names like kultaseni, älskling, rakastettu or karamell whatever every night or something. Are you saying they aren't—" he bragged in Arthur's face cheekily as he leaned onto the table.

"Okay, that's enough." Berwald, a little pink on the cheek, finally picked him up from the chair to prevent him from taking this to a much more _different_ topic.

"It's true!" he protested.

"Go play with Hanatamago for a while, Peter." he shooed the boy away and then came back shortly.

"Sorry Arthur. You... didn't have to know that." A beet red Tino smiled at him awkwardly, avoiding his eyes.

"It's fine really..." God, the awkwardness was getting to Arthur as well. He was not, per se, unfamiliar to the language, since he'd been visiting these two since they moved in 2 years ago. Being around the_ affectionate_ Scandinavians, he'd seem much more than just _names_... But that's a different matter! Well, even if he's used to it, being called out for it by their son must be rather... _awkward_.

So he decided to be done with his snacking to escape from there and... head upstairs to find Peter and Raivis.

They were there alright, with a small puff of white jumping among their feet. The dog's name gave Arthur some trouble to pronounce at first, not anymore, but it's still weird to have it named flower-egg in Japanese. Apparently, they got him from a Japanese woman next door, who was giving up puppies for adoption since she was moving.

"Peter, Raivis, I'm done. Let's go." He called out to the boys.

"Yes, sir!" Raivis quickly followed him, while Peter tried to sneak off, carrying Hanatamago with him. _That_, unfortunately, had never worked.

Peter was not really that bad in school, or to the extent of needing a tutor anyway. He did rather well in math and science classes and was an honor art student. It was only English that he was having problem with. The boy would refuse to remember any grammar taught at school, whether by force or not. And it wasn't intentional, _hopefully_. They wouldn't have to hire Arthur if the boy'd stop falling asleep in English classes. Raivis, on the other hand,... didn't need tutoring. He was a brightest kid in class and did his work properly. He was just hanging out, being there to help Peter remember things, and ask questions about books, since the boy have this love for poetry and romance novels. Arthur appreciated him for being there, actually listening attentively and getting Peter to study. He was, in a way, like Arthur's moral support, so the Briton wouldn't just chew Peter's head off while trying to explain what a continuous past perfect tense was to the ungrateful brat. Arthur had no idea how these two could be friends. But it turned out to help Peter so he had no complaint.

"Hey Eyebrows. What's that on your hand?" Peter stared at Arthur's palm, obviously not interested in the practice worksheet in front of him as he was trying to distract Arthur's reading instead.

"None of your business. Now focus." Arthur waved him off, eyes still practically glued to the book.

Peter took the opportunity to sneak up on him and grabbed his right hand.

"Wow, did you write this with your left hand? This is not your handwriting, is it?"

"No, now let go." Arthur sighed, a little irritated. He was not going to bother to fend off a nosy kid and break eye contact with his book though. Wait a minute, is he talking about—

Arthur pulled his hand from the kid's grasp. He wished Peter hadn't got the time to decipher it. It looked like luck wasn't by his side this time.

"Wow, that's really romantic! I didn't know you could have a lover." Peter grinned at him with, what people would call it, shiny eyes.

"What about lover?" At the slight mention of romance and love, Raivis also dropped his book and looked up in anticipation.

"Nothing. And I don't." Arthur sighed, picking up his book from his lap.

"Who would have written that they liked your smile if not a lover?" Peter was now in Arthur's face, again.

"Doesn't matter, Peter. Get back to work." Arthur didn't want to engage in any conversation with Peter. And that seemed to work as the boy pouted and sat back down on his chair.

"Wait, can anyone tell me what happened?" Raivis was still there, being confused and clueless, at the wrong time.

"Someone wrote this love message on Arthur's hand!" Peter looked back with a secretive smile on his lips.

Arthur couldn't believe how fast that was exaggerated. Peter almost always knew how to get on his nerve. Now he got Raivis to give Arthur the sparkly _please-tell-me-the love-romantic-thing_ puppy eyes. Too blinding for Arthur.

"It was just some random lad I didn't even know, okay? So no, nothing romantic here. I didn't even remember anything, and most certain NOT _love_." Arthur gave up.

Raivis was dejected to find out it was just a false alarm. He took a fast peek at Arthur's hand anyway.

"You know, no offence, but I don't think anyone random would just write on your hand if they don't at least_ care_."

"Told ya I'm right!" Peter inserted, and Arthur still found it unnecessary.

"No you are not!" Arthur rejected Peter.

But maybe that person did _care_? Well, they got Arthur to talk about Elizaveta, which was really surprising, since anything about Arthur's life before work never really came up when Arthur talked with his friends.

_Really_?

"By the way, he liked being hit by his teacher. Do you think he's okay?" Raivis whispered to Peter, though anyone could have probably heard it across the room.

_'Okay, no way', _Arthur thought as he turned around and continued read.

* * *

Alfred ran after his Mom, who was sobbing all the way to the bathroom. She didn't want him to follow her, so he simply stood outside, until Matthew caught up with him much later, for some reasons. They were both in silent, though Alfred could still remember his brother's hand holding onto his jacket's elbow. They left the hospital shortly after Mom came out, her eyes puffy and red. Linda saw them at the way out and offered to drive them back, but Moriah simply declined, said that they could find their way back to the hotel just fine.

The following days, Mom locked herself in the room, occasionally answered calls over her phone to assure the boys that she was alright. Many times, Alfred tried to do something to cheer her up, but his effort seemed to be in vain. Only time could heal it, he guessed. Mom had been so devastated over that man; she basically drove herself into an alcoholic. And now, it could be happening again soon. Alfred was terribly worried over her health, until the fourth day. Mom came out and had lunch with them, instead of having meal brought to her.

"Hey."

"Yes, Mom?" he looked up from his food, attentively at the dazing off woman across the table.

"Do you need anything?" Matthew asked, a bit worried since she had been really quiet too after her arrival.

"I just wanted to know... Are you boys going to be fine with me traveling?"

"Are you going somewhere? Cuz I think we can just all go," Alfred grinned.

"No, I think I'd better do it alone. I want to travel Europe." She sighed softly, chin leaning on the top of her palm. "It'll be pretty long, and Matthew still has school, you know."

"I'm okay with you traveling. If that's what you want," Matthew said.

"It's fine, we can take care of ourselves." Alfred agreed.

"Just a thought." she smiled weakly. "I'm not going anywhere until things have settled down..."

Alfred ate the last bite of his roll, and then suddenly, he stood up.

"How about going around London for now? Technically, it's still Europe!" he smiled brightly. "We still haven't exactly visit places, after all!"

And so they set out plans. With the help from a dear Robert, they pinpointed some different locations, from the nearby Big Ben, London Eyes, Tower of London, Westminster Abbey, the British Museum to other U.K. attractions like Durham Castle, York Minster or other cities like Aberdeen, Manchester, or Liverpool. Alfred specifically wanted to visit Royal Observatory Greenwich. But after roughly a week of touring London, they received another call from Linda. This time, it was urgent. His Dad's condition got worst, and they paid him another visit. It was a surprise that he looked much better than the first time they visited him. Mom, though it was her decision to visit, had a hard time deciding how to act toward him. The conversations were short and too impersonal for family, as if there was an invisible wall in between them. And there was. They hadn't seen each other for a decade, and when they finally did, he did flat out say that they weren't as important to his life. That was honestly the best they could do for a dying man, Alfred thought. It's hard and almost impossible to blame anyone for anything when they are dying. Even when they, your own parent, basically left you for their selfish needs. Even when they are leaving you forever. It was too short an amount of time to decide on anything, especially when all you wanted to do was to run away from reality and find distractions.

They paid him another visit the next day, but unfortunately, the man had entered a deep sleep. Alfred could honestly say that by then, those quiet days in the hospital, waiting for any signs from the man had been the worst days of his life. All he could see was gray foggy sky, cold dreary rain; and desolation, whether on the street, or in the hospital at night; the impending departure when he left the stuffy room for some air, when his mom and brother had fallen asleep, every night when he was wide awake. That night especially, when the man left.

. o . O . o .

It was two days after his death, and the 23rd of December. The funeral ceremony was held publicly in a protestant church. Many people were surrounding him, most people, he had never seen before. Though Mom notified her side of the family, they didn't expect anyone to show up. And so no one did. Some of Mom's friends came, however. The rest were from dad's company, his side of the family, and some old friends he had. After prayers and sermon, some of his close friends came up and read off eulogies, one after others.

The burial was planned at 1 the afternoon at the nearby cemetery, as the rain subsided to a small drizzle. Alfred stood solemnly at the front of the crowd. It was a rather large and cold funeral among strange faces. Mom simply stood, looking so fragile and pale in her mourning dress that everyone thought she would break down any time soon. She did not shed a single tear. Alfred could only guess that she had cried all her tears, from the many days in the past. She was a strong woman.

Matthew stood next to him in the cold rain, emotionless. He barely spoke at all these days. Sometimes, Alfred wondered if his brother was there at all, or it was just him physically. He also wondered if he himself was there at all, if he was really seeing all these things happening, or did his head just made them all up. It was eating him from the inside, and he had no way of finding out the truth, changing anything, no right actions to take, and no motivation to do anything but stand back and watch as the burial took place.

Even now, he wondered how dad must have felt at his last moment; hopefully, the man found some peace...

Most people were gone by the time the burial was over; only about 20 people were left. The place became more desolated as the sky grew darker and the rain only got heavier. Alfred's family decided to stay a bit longer for the post ceremony gathering until everyone was gone, and hopefully the weather would lighten up a bit. It was only about 3 o'clock after all. Meanwhile, he was walking outside to get some fresh air, as he always does whenever he feels uncomfortable. He usually liked crowds of people, but not the kind of crowd where people talk about the deceased quietly, and not in this place.

"Alfred!"

"Hello, Linda." Alfred turned around to see the usual secretary approaching him from the people leaving. It seemed that the funeral was getting to her as well, maybe somewhat even worse than most people around her, since she had always been beside the man.

"I want you to hold onto this." she pulled out a letter from her matching black purse and hold onto his hand as she placed it. "Please open it when you get home, or any time after that is fine too."

Her tone was really serious; it made Alfred felt this sudden importance of whatever's inside the white envelope.

"Is it some legal paper? If so I can give it to my Mom—"

"No. I'm giving her that next. Listen, don't show your Mom this, okay? It's a promise." she looked at Alfred in the eyes to make sure he heard her.

"S-sure." Alfred stuttered. Something felt wrong at the time. What is it that he wasn't supposed to let his Mom know?

"Good. Remember okay?" she breathed out in relief. "Now where could your Mother be? I'm still driving you guys home, right?"

"Yes, my mom is still inside, visiting with others, probably." Alfred pointed to the building. "And thank you for everything, Linda." He managed a small smile.

"I'm just doing everything I can to help. Give me or Robert a call whenever you need, okay?" She smiled back and gave his shoulder a light squeeze. "See you."

He nodded and carefully put the letter in the big interior pocket of his suit. That was probably the designed place for these things.

As he continued to walk, he noticed that there were still a small group of people around the new grave. Alfred had never seen them before, of course, but they must have been close to the man. After all, it was the day before Christmas Eve. One has other things, better things to do than mourning over someone they barely know.

The rest of cemetery was really deserted too. As far as he could see, only a person or two was around. Suddenly he spotted someone he knew, finally. It was certainly not one of his guests though. It was the man he met from the pub.

* * *

Arthur walked through the cold cemetery, his black umbrella overhead. Every 23rd of December these years, he would visit his father's grave. Today happened to be Monday, so he could only go after work.

None of his 3 older brothers lived around London, and even if they had time to go back and get him some flower, they didn't. It was mostly Arthur. And it was more of a sympathy thing than something done out of love. Arthur hated the man. Still, he was his father, and he was death. Arthur felt like he could take out a few hours to at least see him every year.

He placed the bouquet of daffodil next to the grave and stood there under the rain. It didn't become a habit that he'd visit the grave until 3 years ago. Arthur found it hard to forgive the man in many ways in his earlier teenage years. And now here he is, paying him a visit every year, a scene he could never had imagined back then.

As he looked to his right, some people in black were still leaving the church as when he walked in. Probably a big funeral. Arthur felt bad for whoever's it was.

No one wanted family member's death around big holidays like Christmas, he could empathized.

"Hey."

Arthur turned to his left to see a man in black suit, standing next to him. He looked really familiar, but Arthur couldn't recall where.

"Hello... May I help you?" He wondered what the man needed, noticing his black suit.

"Oh, yeah." Alfred realized that the man probably can't recognize him, for it had been a while. Plus he was drunk anyway. "Are you visiting?"

"Yes. And... I'd take it that... you are from the funeral?" he questioned, pointing at the church. It's not hard to notice, Arthur thought, that the man's accent was definitely of and American.

"Yup... my dad's. Do you have sometimes for a small talk?" he smiled sadly.

Arthur couldn't resist the invitation for some reasons. So they started walking slowly.

"Who were you visiting? I'm just curious, there's no need to say anything if you don't want to." Alfred said nervously. He sucked at starting small and polite talks. But Robert told him, while they were still touring London that one week, that Britons usually hate American for being way too straight forward and loud upon first meeting. Alfred had said that he never get British people for being too formal, like they always have a stick up their ass or something. _Well... _that had been funny, but being loud certainly wasn't the right thing to do this time. Plus he couldn't find the slightest motivation to be even remotely energetic today, not in a cemetery anyway.

"My father. It seems that we have something in common." Arthur smiled, sadly.

"Yeah. Only I probably won't be visiting him much. I only came here to see him for the last time after all."

"Oh." Arthur looked at the stranger next to him. "Sorry, don't mean to be nosy but, was he traveling or something?"

"What?"

"Well... you aren't from around here, are you? Your accent screams _American_."

"Oh, that!" Alfred smiled, realizing why the man asked such strange question of of nowhere. "You're right. But he's British. He... my mother married him, and they lived in the states for a while. Then he moved back here ten years ago..."

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to pry. Really." Arthur uttered as fast as he could.

"It's really okay. It wasn't all that bad."

"Still... I'm sorry, you've been through some tough times. My parents were divorced when I was young too, I know how bad it was."

"My parents were never actually divorced... He just... moved one day." Alfred stared at the wet ground, then finally looked up as they stopped moving.

"What?" Arthur looked shock at the man to his left.

"It's basically like divorcing anyway, but... I know. It's strange." Alfred smiled, feeling uneasy.

As if noticing the mood, Arthur stopped thinking about the man's story and cleared his throat.

"Why don't we sit down?" Alfred pointed at a bench on the road. It happened to be dry, thanks to the big tree overhead.

"Yes." Arthur followed him.

. o . O . o .

"Let's not talk about my family anymore. How is yours?" Alfred leaned on the backrest as soon as he closed his umbrella.

Arthur paused a bit at the mention and looked up. Then he closed his umbrella, too.

"Mine... it had always been a mess. You see, my mom wasn't a very faithful person." He said, looking out at the many gravestones in front of him.

Alfred simply waited patiently for the man the talk again.

"She got married to my dad and had four children. But then they found out that she was cheating on him with the neighbor. They even had a kid around my age."

"Wow." Alfred let out unconsciously. "Oops, sorry. Go on."

"It's alright. I thought so too. And who knew how many other people she was with." Arthur smiled sadly. "My dad... he became a completely different person. After the divorce, he started drinking heavily. And things went worse from there... Yeah." Arthur sighed. I can't believe I told someone that, was running through his mind. But he could really care less what an American he'll probably never meet again think about his family.

"And how old were you?" Alfred asked, his mind still trying to imagine what a shitty life that would be.

"Let me think... My dad died when I was 16... that was 3 years from the divorce. I was 13 years old." Arthur was never sure when he talk about his age. That was so long ago, he realized.

"Wow... I mean, I'm sorry. But... ya know."

Alfred sat back.

"I know."

They had a moment of silence. The rain was actually lightening up to a sprinkle, and the afternoon sun was visible from the cloudy sky.

'Somehow, the day didn't feel as bad as it did', they both thought.

"How old are you now?" Alfred asked out of curiosity. The man was probably around his age. He sounded older but that's as most British people do.

"Me? I turned 23 this year. What 'bout you?" Arthur looked at the young man.

"WHAT? You can't be serious!" Alfred almost shat himself. How is that possible? He looked freaking younger than Alfred. Wait, looking closer now, he is in a suit under that coat. Alfred probably didn't notice the last time at the pub because he was in shirts trousers. Wait, thinking back, he _was_ at a_ pub_. And_ the owner was his friend. _How stupid is that make of Alfred.

"What?"

"Nothing... I'm 19."

Now it was time for Arthur to be surprised. He looked at him with the most incredulous face he could pull at the outrage.

"Wow... I feel cheated. How come most Americans are so tall these days?"

"I was in the football team."

"Are you not in school?"

"I was, until this summer. I'm still not sure about entering school again since I already got an associate."

The rain had stopped before either of them noticed. Alfred looked up at the clearing sky. It looked windy up there, as the cloud was moving fast, but only a light breeze was felt. A light cold breeze, it almost felt like autumn again.

"What do you want to be?" Arthur saw the young man next to him and started doing the same thing.

"A police officer."

"Oh." Arthur nodded. "Well, it doesn't hurt to be prepared for whatever comes next, I guess. I think you should continue with your study while you are still young."

"And why do you say that?" Alfred looked back at him.

Arthur stood up from the bench.

"Experience. I'm still in college." He paused. "And my dad was a police officer. I mean, he was a good officer. That he was." Arthur looked at him in the eyes.

"Thanks." Alfred got to his feet as well, smiling. "I'll think about it."

"Thank you."

"It was fun talking to you." Alfred patted the man's shoulder.

"I feel the same way. Though your American accent is getting on my nerve. Just a little bit."

"What? It's not like this is the first time we met or anything!" Alfred hinted with a small grin.

"What do you mean it's not?" Arthur asked, eyes widen in a slight surprise.

Then Alfred stept a little closer. He picked up Arthur's right hand and pointed at his palm.

"Aww, it's gone. But remember?"

What's gone? His right palm?

"Ahhhh! You were THAT American?" The dots were connecting.

"Yup!" Alfred giggled at Arthur's expression.

"Wait, this is important. What was the name... Alfred?"

"Alfred F. Jones is the full name." Alfred laughed. "I can't believe you remember!"

"Oh."

There it was. The full picture. The Jones. That funeral was Kennedy Jones's.

"It's kinda hard to miss... when you are a secretary... and is having an appointment with said person tomorrow..." Arthur murmured, mostly to himself.

"What'cha say?" Alfred leaned in closer.

"Nothing." Arthur snapped out of his thoughts.

"You never told me your name."

"What?"

"I don't know your name."

"Oh, me? I'm Arthur. Arthur Kirkland."

"Hi Arthur!" Alfred felt giddy. He no longer remembered that they were in a cemetery. Or it was his dad's funeral day. All he could see was Arthur in front of him.

Arthur smiled at the goofy boy. It was one thing to tell a stranger you'll never meet again your life story. It was another to a client. But there was no harm in doing so. It made him a little happy, actually, to have someone listening for once.

"Alfred?" A call was heard from behind them. Alfred turned back to find Matthew standing a few feet away.

"Hi Mattie!" He waved at his brother, grinning.

"We are leaving soon." A confused Canadian waved back, maybe much less energetic.

"I'll be right there!"

Then he turned to Arthur again, who was still looking at the other blond.

"My brother, isn't he a cutie?"Alfred said. " Now can you tell me your number or something real quick? Cuz we should hang out sometimes!"

Arthur was still a bit slow, trying to process what the American just said, but he got a better idea.

"It's not needed. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon." He smiled and waved good-bye.

"What do you mean tomorrow? Here?"

"No, just... ask your brother for your tomorrow's schedule. Bye, Alfred."

"Okay then, whatever you meant. See you, Arthur!" Alfred said cheerfully before hurrying after his brother.

Arthur looked at his watch. It was 4:25 already. Then he looked after the brothers rushing to the church's direction. About time he get back as well, Arthur guessed. He picked up his umbrella, then noticed that the blond had left his blue umbrella there by the bench. He smiled, thinking about how silly Alfred would look when he return him the umbrella tomorrow. Forget the umbrella, his face would probably be hilarious meeting Arthur again alone.

This whole thing had been a mess, how he met Alfred in a pub, then a cemetery of all places. And somehow, it was all connected. He was seeing him again tomorrow at the office. Arthur found it hard not to believe in fate.

For the first time in forever, Arthur actually wished for tomorrow to come soon.

* * *

_[To be continued...]_

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_(Really, please don't hate me for the MANY depressing Alfred scenes in this chapter. I'm terribly sorry!)_

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Mon cher - My dear

Tervetuloa - Welcome

kultaseni, rakastettu - finnish for sweetheart, love.

älskling, karamell - swedish for darling, caramel.

**IMPORTANT:**

I'm hoping you guys don't mind my author note explaining a big point I made? ; v ;

I... put a lot of time in writing Alfred's family, as you can see. And why? I want to make this point. Remember how this is a modern AU instead of countries? I had it so that some of the scene match with Hetalia's, and my favorite USUK scenes that absolutely captured my heart were the Revolutionary War and the one before that, when Alfred was still a colony. Shipping USUK, knowing RL history, I don't think it's weird to notice that "_Wow, so I'm basically shipping England and his rebellious son." _(meant to be said in a stupid and sarcastic tone, please don't take me seriously on this one only)

**So from there, I made two characters based on England: Arthur** (obviously),** and Alfred's dad, Kennedy** (He's based after the old u.s president, yes. Also Robert Kennedy is President Kennedy's brother historically, so I'm giving Robert this role of a big brother/godfather).

Yes, _that would explain why_ **Alfred** (**America**) saw this _familiarity_ in **Arthur's, Kennedy's, and Robert's smile** (in which, they are all Englishmen, get it? **England?**)

If you caught that while reading (wow) bravo! I probably wouldn't if I wasn't the one writing. If you didn't, no you didn't fail! I didn't think of it until I get to writing about Kennedy, not your fault :)

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_There, all I wanted to say. Now go on, go back to doing whatever you were doing, or maybe read the story again with this new piece of info, I think I cried a bit doing that ; v ;_

_Thank you for everyone's support :) I truly appreciate you guys!_

_Btw, I'm not sure if everyone prefer: long wait and long chapters or shorter time with shorter chapters? Give me an opinion on that down at the reviews, if you have time? That would be very helpful to know. Thanks!_


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